UNSEEN RAINBOW 1965

A BOY AND GIRL MEET AFTER WORK AND TALK IN 1965

I met Tilly after she
had finished work,
before she caught
her bus home, we

went to a milk bar,
had a coffee and bun.
What did your mum say
about you coming to my

place to listen to LPs?
I said. She doesn't trust
you, Tilly said, and she
doesn't believe your mum

will be there to supervise.
I sipped my black coffee
disappointed. What about
on your half day? She need

not know you're coming
to my place; we can play
my sister's Beatles LPs or
my Elvis, I said. Too risky,

she might wonder why I'm
not home on my half day,
Tilly said. I lit a cigarette
and so did she. Tell her in

advance you've got some
stock-taking to do. Tilly
sighed: I've done more
stock-taking recently;

she'll suspect I'm up to no
good. I looked at her and
smiled; I tried and failed,
but at least I can look at

you now and enjoy your
beauty, I said. She frowned:
I am off on holiday the week
after next, maybe we could

arrange something then,
she said, I have an uncle
in Richmond and he's asked
me to stay and look after his

house for a few days while
he's away. Richmond? I said,
I suppose I could take a day
off  and meet you. No, she said,

a night as well. I smiled and
so did she. Sometimes there's
a rainbow you just don't see.